


you're kind of a big deal

by capra



Category: Figure Skating RPF, ONE OK ROCK
Genre: M/M, keiji POV, keiji is the mom friend, keiji's just so patient, taka has eyes, there isn't really a plot, yuzu is a fanboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 18:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18036788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capra/pseuds/capra
Summary: Yuzuru Hanyu is possibly One OK Rock's biggest fan. When he finally attends one of their concerts, he is given an all-access pass, and uses this to go backstage to meet his idol Taka.All of which is really none of Keiji's business, except that he's a good friend who came along for moral support. And he ends up getting free drinks out of the deal, so it all works out.





	you're kind of a big deal

**Author's Note:**

> I have a very long queue of WIPs, fic seeds, and other miscellaneous Things I Should Be Writing. So of course this thing showed up and elbowed them all out of the way.
> 
> I really have no excuse for this except that Taka's on-stage energy is really something special. (Or I haven't been to enough concerts. But I think that's not it.) 
> 
> And, having seen Taka perform, I now have reason to suspect that Yuzu's silent karaoke flail-dancing (when he's lip-syncing the words to their songs) is a conscious effort to mimic Taka's flaily stage dancing.
> 
> This story is based on a narrow range of cherrypicked personality qualities culled from my personal and very biased interpretation of the publically available personas of real human beings who are, I am quite certain, not similar at all to how they're depicted here.
> 
> In short, it's complete fiction.

“And as soon as the music kicks in - not as soon as it starts but when the  _ soul _ of the song opens up, he  _ moves _ , he moves with it, he just goes  _ crazy _ .”

Keiji is busy. He’s got half a can of hairspray to deposit into his hair in the next ten minutes if it’s going to have a chance of being kinda-mostly-dry-enough in time for his ex, and Yuzu won’t stop pushing his phone in his face. The video he’s intent on showing Keiji is simple - footage from a live rock concert. The singer, dressed in white, is spinning and jumping and making out with his mic stand. 

“Yuzu, you’re describing pretty much every rock band frontman ever. That’s what frontmen  _ do _ _,_ that’s their role on stage. The other members play, the frontman bounces around like a crazy person.”

“It’s not just  _ bouncing _ \--”

“Okay,  _ dances _ around like a crazy person.” Yuzu is mollified by this, and Keiji sighs. Again.

“Yuzu, I gotta spray my hair, and if I hit your phone or your earphones with this--”

“Oh. Right.” Yuzu, who’s been dressed and ready for his ex for ages now - and who also doesn’t even have to  _ be  _ ready for twice as long as Keiji has left, because Yuzu’s closing the show - seems to have forgotten (again) that Keiji’s working against the clock a little bit here. He puts his phone away, and tucks away the cord attached to it too. “Sorry. Should I spray?”

“Actually, yeah, that would help a lot,” Keiji says, and sits down on a chair in front of the mirror so Yuzu can reach. He points at the spot that needs it, and holds his hair in place while Yuzu applies the spray. Keiji points to another spot, and Yuzu sprays again. Silence lasts for about fifteen seconds.

“See, the music isn’t a separate entity from him,” Yuzu starts, and then bites his lip, guiltily holding back the rest. Keiji opens his eyes to meet Yuzu’s in the mirror. It’s not like Keiji doesn’t know exactly what feeling Yuzu’s trying to bite down on, the sensation that he’s prattling on, the self-consciousness of being overinvested in his fandom. He smiles ruefully.

“Yeah? Go on.” It’s worth it for the look on Yuzu’s face.

Yuzu lights up. “It  _ carries _ him, and it’s like he’s filling up with energy, and there’s nowhere else for it to  _ go _ , and he  _ has _ to move.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Keiji teases, and Yuzu flushes. He steps back from Keiji’s chair so he has room to shake the can. The agitator clangs loudly, back and forth.

“You should go see them in concert sometime, Yuzu,” Keiji says, over the noise. “I bet not even your fancy earphones compare to the real deal.”  

Yuzu stops shaking the spray, and shakes his head instead, frowning into the mirror so Keiji can see. “You know I can’t.”

“I know you can’t stand in general admission with everyone else, but that doesn’t mean you can’t go  _ at all _ ,” Keiji insists. Yuzu hurriedly sprays him again, hitting Keiji’s hand more than his hair. “They’re your  _ favorite band _ and from everything you’ve been telling me, this tour is a really, really good one. Wait til they hit a city near Toronto, and go there. Get a box seat, or something, in the center. That’s where the sound would be best, right?”

“Well, depending on whether the venue had side wall baffles, it might actually be better to sit--”  Keiji’s Cheshire grin alerts Yuzu to what he’s saying, and he flushes red and slams the hairspray down on the counter.  “I didn’t say I was going to  _ go! _ Just - if I  _ did _ \- center back isn’t always....the best...oh shut up!”

Keiji’s laughter chases Yuzu from the dressing room.

*

Keiji gets an email from Yuzu less than a week later. There’s a .pdf attached, a promotional flyer listing all the dates and cities on the North American leg of the tour.

> _ Do you want to come with me?  _

Keiji seriously considers it for about ten minutes. Fifteen, if you count the quick search he does for airfare prices.

_ >>I’d love to, but there’s no way I can swing the tickets. _

_ >?? My treat! _

_ >>I appreciate that, but I meant the plane tickets, not the show _

_ > _ **_My treat_ **

It doesn’t seem like a request when Yuzu puts it that way. Keiji wonders how one man can be so completely  _ eldritch terror _ and  _ bundle of cute sweetness _ at the same time.

_ >Jeez. Okay, fine. These are the dates I could make it… _

*

Keiji’s been to a few concerts, so even in America, where many of the details are so  _ very _ different, the experience in whole still feels pretty familiar.  Yuzu, however, who has never been to a rock concert before, much less a rock concert of his favorite band  _ ever _ , is considerably more whelmed. Keiji’s got bruises in his forearm inside of two songs. And when the frontman, Taka, takes a break between songs to talk to the crowd, demanding screams and demanding  _ again _ when it’s not loud enough for his taste, Yuzu’s on the edge of his seat, fingernails digging white crescents into Keiji’s arm and the palm of his own other hand.

“Yuzu, breathe,” Keiji reminds him, suddenly feeling the need to triple-check that Yuzu’s inhaler is within easy access. He’s already checked twice, and it’s been exactly where he put it both times. One of their security detail, catching Keiji’s worried eye, pats the pocket of Yuzu’s backpack that the inhaler is in, reassuring him. It helps a bit.

“You know, if you pass out, you’ll miss the rest of the set.”

“That would be the worst,” Yuzu agrees, rapt. Keiji’s not certain Yuzu’s blinked in the last hour. He leans in, mouth next to Yuzu’s ear so he’ll be able to hear him over the booming of the drums.

“Are you still going to use the pass?”

Yuzu shivers, and Keiji can’t help but laugh, soft.

“They would have sent you a facility access pass if they meant that you’d need it just to get around the venue,” he says. “But they sent you  _ all-access _ passes. And why would you need access to the band unless they wanted to meet you?” Yuzu lets go of his arm long enough to smack his thigh.

“ _ Shhhh. _ ”

Keiji grins, and stops trying to talk over the music.

*

Yuzu uses the pass. Keiji knew he would. He stands, hesitating, just outside the lead dressing-room door, stepping from foot to foot like a nervous schoolkid.

“Just knock,” Keiji says. He’d do it himself, and he will in a second if he has to, but he’d like Yuzu to, freely, if at all possible. “What the heck?”

“Shut up, I'm going to,” Yuzu says, and of course that’s when the door opens. It’s one of the band - Tomoya, the drummer, and he pulls up short, startled by people standing where he wasn’t expecting people. He’s shorter than most of the rest of the band, with a wide smile and big, wavy hair styled back from his face. Keiji only knows all of this because Yuzu made him study all the members, and  _ quizzed him _ , before the trip. Tomoya looks them over while they look him over - well, Keiji’s looking, Yuzu might still be lost somewhere in his head. He looks a bit glazed over.

“Oh hi,” Tomoya says, and twists to yell over his shoulder. “Oi, Taka, I don’t know for  _ sure  _ but I think this one’s for you!”

Yuzu jerks back to himself, eyes going sharp. At the same time, Keiji watches him blush faster than Keiji’s ever seen before. It’s an interesting combination.  A second later, the door’s getting pulled further open, and Taka’s there. He looks from Keiji to Yuzu and back again, sweeps his gaze over Yuzu’s security detail, who are conversing quietly with his own to kill time, and brings it back to Yuzu.

“I thought you might not have got the badges,” he says. His grin is rakish, amused, challenging. Yuzu lights up, and Keiji knows he’s just dropped off the face of Yuzu’s world, along with everyone else who isn’t Moriuchi Takahiro.

“I didn’t want to interrupt before your show,” Yuzu says. Any trace of his hesitance from earlier is gone. “I enjoyed it very much. It was a fantastic performance. I felt transported.”   
  
“Ah, thank you, that’s kind,” Taka says, looking skeptical. “So it wasn’t obvious that I’m fighting a cold?”

“A cold?” Yuzu’s expression snaps into worry, and he’s already backed up half a step. “I shouldn’t take up your time, you should rest.”

Taka shrugs. “Nah. I’m fine, I’ll rest on the bus. But…” He looks Yuzu up and down, rolls his lip between his teeth. “You afraid to get it?”

“I can work through a cold,” Yuzu says, to which Taka nods approvingly.

There’s only a few cm difference in height between the two of them, Keiji guesses, though it’s hard to tell exactly how much because of their hair, and their presence. There’s a big aura around each of them, and the space between and around them is starting to feel...pointed. Scratch that, it feels  _ very  _ pointed, and Keiji’s absolutely certain he doesn’t need or want to know anything more about where that point is heading.

Tomoya clears his throat, and Taka very visibly remembers his drummer is standing next to him. “I’m gonna go ahead, you catch up with us once you’re done, ok?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Taka says vaguely.

Tomoya shakes his head and steps away from the dressing room door.

“Great show,” Keiji tells him as he passes, because  _ he _ at least is not a rude asshole, unlike his friend. “It was my first one. I really enjoyed it.”

“Aw man, thank you, I’m grateful,” Tomoya says, and he very clearly means it. “You come here with him?”

Tomoya starts walking, slowly, and Keiji walks with him, maintaining a conversation while also moving away from the conversation happening in the dressing room doorway. Keiji’s gaze flicks to Yuzu, then back to Tomoya with no small measure of chagrin. “Yeah, he invited me along. He’s a huge fan--”

“Oh, we know,” Tomoya laughs, and Keiji, startled, laughs too. 

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” Tomoya says, and shrugs. “Hey, anyway, do you wanna come with? The band is getting food before we hit the bus for the night, you’re welcome to come along if you like. There’s drinks too. My treat.”

Keiji is beginning to get a complex about those words. “Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Just come kill time with us,” Tomoya says, clapping a hand on Keiji’s back. “I get the feeling it’s either us, or you’ll just be sitting around bored for a while.” 

Tomoya’s  _ completely _ unimpressed expression, and the way that he jerks his head back toward Taka and Yuzu, as if to say  **_these_ ** _ guys, am I right? _ tells Keiji loads about what kind of person he is. 

Keiji remembers an interview clip Yuzu showed him, as part of his ‘ _ homework _ ’ before coming on this trip. “You’re kind of a big deal now, man,” the interviewer had said, in English, and Taka had nodded, nose scrunched up. “Yeah, I am.”

Keiji looks at Tomoya and thinks,  _ I found a kindred spirit. _

Keiji is aware on some level that several of his friends would probably shit themselves to get to have this kind of casual, private interaction with a rockstar. But as far as Keiji’s concerned, Tomoya’s just another professional tasked, in part, with babysitting his ‘teammate’. While that’s surely an oversimplification of things, it’s a comforting common ground to have with someone, one that Keiji doesn’t often get to share. He glances back at Taka and Yuzu - who are standing closer to each other now, talking intensely - and then looks back to Tomoya with a growing feeling of recklessness.

“Yeah, you know what? I’d like that. If it really wouldn’t be intruding, I’d like that a  _ lot _ ,” Keiji says. He looks over at the security team, feeling a little guilty, but one of them has been listening, and one of the band’s, too, and they both look unbothered.

“I’ll stay here,” Yuzu’s guard offers, “if you feel secure going without me.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” Keiji laughs, and Tomoya salutes, cheekily taking Keiji into his care.

Keiji turns back to Tomoya, fretting. “Will they know where we’re headed? Should I text Yuzu the address?”

“Wow, you  _ really  _ need a drink,” Tomoya says, eyebrows at his hairline. “They’ll be fine. C’mon, mom. Let’s loosen you up a bit too.”

“Too?” Keiji asks, and looks back at Yuzu and Taka. Just in time to see the dressing room door close behind them.  “Oh boy.”

“Oh hey, that’s good,” Tomoya says mildly. “I was hoping they’d make it into the dressing room first.” Tomoya grabs Keiji’s elbow. “He’s been looking forward to this for  _ ages _ . C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ps: if you want me to write out the sex they're absolutely having in that dressing room, i'll need to know Taka better so i can properly characterize him, so, idk, leave me links in the comments. :D
> 
> Thanks, as always, to KSSC.


End file.
